Always There
by Miss-Murdered
Summary: Rin reflects at his father's gravesite about his dreams, his life and Haru.


Disclaimer: I don't own Free!

Pairings/Warnings: RinHaru, m/m sex, angst, bad language

A/N: Beta'd by Lunar Pull and written for Fencer-X as part of Rin's Birthday Bash fanwork exchange.

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**Always There**

It was a cold day, the breeze from the sea bitter, but Rin hadn't worn a thick coat. Instead, he wore his black hoodie tight around his body, the thin tank top underneath doing little to alleviate the chill as he thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans, walking to the place he had been meaning to visit for some time.

He walked slowly, slower than he needed, and he wore headphones around his neck, intending to listen to something but instead of music, he listened to the sounds around him – the sea in the distance, the rustle of the cold wind through the trees – and he ended up feeling as melancholy as the dull grey day.

It wasn't that he didn't want to go as he knew he needed to – needed to go to that spot and explain and talk and tell someone. But that didn't mean he did it without reluctance – without this damn feeling in his chest that he hated.

Haru hadn't made him talk about it as shit, Rin didn't want to – didn't want to tell him why or whatever. And he was glad he didn't as they sat eating breakfast in the home they'd made their own, Haru intending to sit there and grade his students' papers on his Saturday morning while Rin did this.

He'd dragged his feet as long as he could and instead of doing it more, he increased his pace to a jog, his exertion warming him up a little in the frigid air. It took time to get there, time Rin needed as he thought of the right words and his reasonings and why he was making this journey. It was an anniversary, that he knew, and he had felt guilty having not visited for some time. It was just that life, the life he had made, the life that he had, was one that meant he forgot this – forgot to visit. Hell, he realised, as his pace increased to a run, he'd forgotten flowers. But then Rin wondered why he should bother. His father wasn't there – it was a stone commemorating him and he wasn't there and never had been. Yet it was all he had left.

As he arrived, he slowed his pace to a stop, the sweat dripping underneath where his hair was tied back in a small ponytail and he leaned down, taking deep breaths and regaining his composure. Rin wanted to say he just felt a little sick from the exertion and the early morning run, but he knew that wasn't true. Rin ran miles every day – mostly alone, but sometimes Haru joined him and they would become competitive again, smiling at each other as they raced. The thought made him smile a little as his breathing returned to normal and Rin stood straight, taking heavy steps towards the slab of rock.

The stone looked like he remembered even though years had passed since he'd last visited. He felt a little lump in his throat as he saw it and realised all the things that still hurt. That he didn't remember him – his face – him having spent far too long out at sea for Rin to really have put a face to the name. He had pictures, images, but they were nothing in comparison to someone in reality. He supposed Gou was lucky, not really remembering anything at all, as then she didn't feel like he did. Didn't feel the need to visit and stand there and touch the stone, cold under his fingertips.

Though Gou never had the same weight on her shoulders that Rin did. She never promised at this very same place that she would make it to the Olympics. He had been the one to promise that – that he would follow the dream that gotten lost – and now Rin stood there, twenty-four, and it was only now he could admit to his father that he hadn't done it. He'd failed, too.

His mouth felt dry and it felt like there was something too big in his throat as he began to speak.

"I didn't…" he started and then looked to the ground before he averted his eyes towards the sea.

He ground his jaw, his hands in fists and he realised how dumb this was. He didn't need to justify this – did he? He was a man now – a man with a life and a job and he didn't need to tell a ghost what he'd done with his life. Yet, he did. He wanted to, needed to, and maybe he should'vebrought flowers but instead he was standing there with nothing but himself.

"I didn't make it to the Olympics," he said, finally, gritting out the words.

Of course, he'd tried. Every damn thing he could. And he'd gone through trial after trial in his teens. Samezuka had given him every opportunity to train, to improve, his grades barely mattering in the blur of the pool and the need to train and train and train. The only moments of his late teens he remembered beyond the water, beyond the need to jog and run and push himself, were those that involved Haru – remembered finding moments to be alone together – kissing, pushing each other against walls, touching each other, finding rare moments to fuck each other, biting down on each other's skin.

Haru had always been there, since they met again – and more importantly since that one time that re-ignited everything. It had been after the relay, after all that rivalry and aggression had been put to rest and turned into that perfect moment that they all swam together. The nights after which Rin just couldn't sleep, his mind racing until one sleepless evening he found himself at Haru's home, knocking on the door, dripping with sweat as he'd run to get there, and then he was falling through the door, falling into Haru.

It had seemed as natural as breathing, grinding and sliding against each other, fumbling past clothing, Rin's sweaty shirt finding itself discarded on the stairs. They had fallen into Haru's bed without much thought and it had begun then – the years of Haru watching him, supporting him, swimming with him and training with him.

While Haru was a good swimmer – so damn good – Haru swam for the love of the water, the feel of the slick slide of liquid against his skin, to feel nothing under the surface and find a moment where he was free, submerged in blue. Rin didn't feel like that. He wanted to swim to win, to compete, and he wanted what his father had wanted. Rin made his father's dream into his own so that his life was all about the fantasy of becoming an Olympian, of representing Japan internationally, of stepping onto a podium and some dignitary putting a medal around his neck.

It was at the final trials that Rin had seen his dreams shatter. He had gone through so many regional and national races and he'd been swimming through the pain – the strain to his shoulder that only Haru knew about – and he'd be damned if he'd got so far, gone through so much, to fail at the last race.

Haru had done what he could to help the injury – massaging it on nights where he would softly kiss down Rin's back, mouth along the bumps in his spine until Rin couldn't stand anymore of his tease, smirking broadly and turning quickly to push Haru toward the bed, getting his revenge in heated kisses and his hand stroking every inch of his flesh. But while those massages had led to hot, sweaty sex, they didn't help the injury.

The pain, the fucking injury... Rin could still feel it when he swam, though now that he didn't swim as much it was only on the periphery and he could deal with it. But he remembered hitting the wall during that last race and the pain had become too much and even as he'd swam his shoulder pulled and it was an agony that he meant he had to slow down. He just couldn't go as fast as he damn needed to and while he tried, he didn't qualify high enough. It was as he'd pulled himself out of the pool that he'd felt his hands ball into fists as he knew his dream, his father's dream, was over.

After that Rin had felt so empty, so damn hollow, and he'd spent the days after the trials in a daze, angry and bitter. And while he'd wanted Haru, he'd pushed him away, running for miles at night to forget and returning home to sleep on the couch, avoiding him. It took days after the trials for Haru to find him sitting alone in the rain on the beach, looking out to sea, thinking of his father dying out there. But Haru didn't demand Rin to explain his feelings, didn't demand for him to say how he felt – Haru only held him in the rain, kissed him softly and ran his fingers through his hair.

And when they had returned home they'd fucked like there was nothing in the world but each other, rolling in the sheets until they couldn't anymore, grabbing onto each other, fingernails digging into skin as they nipped at lips and that was why Rin needed Haru. Haru didn't demand – only knew what Rin needed when he needed him like that, wild and wanton, pinning each other to the bed, and watching Haru on top of him, riding his cock. And while Rin reverently touched every patch of skin it made him realise that while he had lost his dream, he had gained something else, something different. He had Haru. And though it sounded cliché, maybe he just had to change what his dream was.

Rin pressed his hand into the stone, his thoughts returning to the present and he felt it, cold and unyielding, and with his head downcast he spoke.

"It was hard," he said softly. "I wanted to live that dream, to make it… but the injury."

The bitterness in his voice was harsh but he continued, knowing that he had to admit this, the ghost of his father hovering over the life he was making post-trials.

"But… I've made a life with Haru. He was there for every moment, saw every win and failure, and he stood beside me when… when I wasn't the easiest person to live with." Rin chuckled at that – thinking of all the times he was out of bed before Haru stirred when he'd stayed over and maybe he planted a kiss on Haru's forehead but there were times they barely saw each other for weeks between Rin's running, his work outs in the gym and his training in the pool.

"And he's…" he coughed, a tight feeling in his throat.

Rin rarely told Haru that he loved him. They weren't like Rei and Nagisa who were overly affectionate in public but then, he supposed, that was Nagisa and Rei endured it. Which he didn't get – but then he often didn't get the blond whirlwind of energy.

Rin didn't say "I love you" often and not because he didn't feel it – it was just he didn't need to. As it was known, it was implicit in every action, every night, every kiss and look but to the immovable piece of stone he could admit it as the wind whistled around him, blowing the hair around his face and into his eyes. He felt he could say it – he felt as though his father needed to know.

"He's the man I love. He was there after… and every day since. I've become a coach… and it's good to see the kids get better."

As he said the word "kids" he smiled at himself. He remembered so intensely being that age and feeling so damn grown up – as though he could take over the world and be the best. Those kids at Iwatobi High School – getting to experience the legacy of Haru's time there creating a swimming programme to rival Samezuka's – were his to mould, to coach, and he enjoyed seeing them improve and maybe… maybe one day one of them would get to the Olympics. Rin would think that as he walked down the side of the pool during training, his sharp eyes watching every movement in the water.

He looked up then, looked at the world around him, returning his hand to his side as he stood straight, gaze moving back to the stone.

"I didn't fulfill your dream but my dreams changed… My dream became the life I'm making with Haru."

The life they had wasn't flashy. It was based in the house they shared, it was working at the high school, it was nights just lying beside each other and nights where they made love until the early hours. It was time spent cooking, sharing space and making each other smile and laugh. The most heart-stopping moments being those where Haru did just that – when Rin teased and tickled him, acting like kids and then hearing that laugh, kissing those lips that it came from. It was small moments – perfect in their mundaneness.

"Haru is… my balance. My calm." He shook his head, embarrassed even to admit this to the stone. "And I love him because he's everything I'm not. And everything I need."

He knew there was nothing else he had to explain – he didn't need the approval of a dead man – but yet as he looked up to the dull sky, he saw that the day was brightening, the sun breaking through and warming him a little and he hated the damn sentiment but maybe, maybe, that was a sign of approval.

His fingers reached out one last time. "I'm making my own dream and that's with Haru."

The feeling in his chest weighed him down as Rin left and ran home, his strides long, taking it far too quickly but he wanted to see Haru urgently, wanted him in a way that was coursing just underneath his skin – and while he couldn't express to Haru what he meant to him like he'd done at his father's gravesite, he would show him in every way that he could.

He returned home to see Haru sitting on the floor, his limbs curled under him and the books of the kids he taught spread across the floor. Rin paused for a second as the words he'd said to his father echoed in his head. Maybe he didn't get his dream – he didn't get the gold medal or the moment of glory on top of the podium – but he had Haru and a life that he'd built with him and would continue to build on.

Haru looked up as he stood in the doorway and his eyebrow raised in question. Rin had things he wanted to say, gratitude for putting him back together so many times, for always being by his side, always watching and always the one Rin wanted but all those words died on his lips. Instead he walked over, his feet taking him to Haru, and knelt down on the floor beside him.

"You feel cold," Haru said, his hand reaching out to touch Rin's cold skin, and the contact made a shiver run up Rin's spine despite the fact that he was so used to Haru's touch.

Maybe it was all the talk of their past, the moments that had come to mind as he spoke to his father that made him itch to reach out and touch, slide his fingers gently to Haru's collarbone, exposed underneath the loose shirt, and Haru looked up questioningly, briefly, before instinctively leaning forward to meet Rin's lips. It was a soft kiss, rare, as even despite their many years together their relationship was always full of fire and need. But this time it was slow, sensual, both of them sat on the floor in a muddle of students' work. It soon increased in fire, became needy, intense, showing just how Rin needed Haru in actions.

Rin pulled away, his body feeling a little warmer from the kiss and the contact of Haru's skin and he saw the look on Haru's face. It was a question, a question about his feelings, but it disappeared as Rin stood and offered his hand to help Haru to his feet too. He used the motion to pull Haru close to him, as close as he could get, and the kiss began again, lips sliding together, bodies grinding together.

The feel of Haru against him – warm, solid, strong – made the ghosts surrounding him evaporate into the air and they kissed, open-mouthed, their bodies tight and Rin wanted to fall into the man who'd been there, who'd saved him, who loved him for every fault. They tumbled their way to their bedroom as they had done a thousand times yet it was always wonderful, perfect, always so damn good and Rin led their way, pulling Haru willingly along.

Rin unzipped his hoodie, removed his wet tank and he loved how blue eyes looked at him, watching him as Haru sat on the edge of their bed. Rin approached, straddling him, reaching to grab his face between his fingertips.

"I want you," he said, his mouth nipping at the skin near his ear, his tongue licking there, his mouth at Haru's earlobe. "I damn need you now."

And Haru looked up, with that little smirk that Rin thought seemed to copy his own after their years together, and his hands were sliding up Rin's back in long sweeping motions, going up to his shoulders before sliding down to his lower back, sliding them to his denim clad ass, groping him, forcing Rin closer. Their clothed dicks made contact and Rin hissed as he automatically moved into Haru's body, wanting friction and wanting Haru.

Rin stood again, removing his jeans as Haru threw off his loose shirt, his eyes watching as Rin slid them down his legs. He raised an eyebrow and teased a finger underneath the waistband of his boxer shorts as Haru's eyes seemed to run down his chest, taking in every inch of him, and stopped at where Rin's hands were teasing. The boxer shorts barely hid anything as he was hard, aching, but he enjoyed the brief moment of tease as Haru watched him slide them down. He pumped his cock a few times once it was free for the benefit of his lover before he walked back over to him, attacking Haru's belt and jeans, removing them as quickly as he could as he fell to his knees.

He quickly divested Haru of his boxer shorts and he licked at his cock, one long line from base to tip, watched closely by Haru who seemed to tremble at the attention. Rin lapped around the head, his eyes looking up to meet Haru's as his tongue swiped at pre-cum, tasting him before he bobbed down onto Haru's dick, taking as much as he could, his fingers teasing at the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, further upwards to his balls. He wanted to show Haru – wanted him to know how he was everything – and he did that with a wicked tongue, with his lips and with a slight scrape of teeth until he felt Haru tug at his hair, pulling it out of the ponytail and making Rin stop.

"Up here," Haru said and Rin shook out his hair a little as Haru moved to lie back on the bed and Rin followed, positioning himself above at first but Haru had other ideas.

Fingers drifted to Rin's cock, pumping him as he'd done himself but with more tease, and Rin arched his back, automatically thrusting forward into Haru's hand. He found his world tilted suddenly as he was on his back, Haru pinning him down and they ground together, their cocks rubbing each other deliciously, making Rin pant.

They kissed, the swipe of tongue, the sensual movement of lips, the taste of sweat and pre-cum, and Rin pulled Haru's hair, their hips still moving against each other, so close but Rin wanted more and he looked up at Haru whose eyes seemed impossibly dark with lust.

"Fuck me. Now," he growled, grabbing for Haru's shoulders, arching his body and creating more friction for his dick.

Haru didn't need any further orders, reaching over for lube, his body only leaving Rin's for a moment and then he was running his tongue over Rin's chest in worship, sliding slick fingers inside him, stretching him, fucking him with them. Haru licked at his abs, following the lines of his muscles, and Rin slammed his eyes closed and pushed back onto the fingers thrusting inside, his dick twitching, steadily leaking, and Haru licked at it once his exploration of Rin's stomach muscles were done.

The brief sensation of a wet and warm and flexible tongue made Rin buck up uncontrollably but Haru's mouth was gone from there, gone further downwards, licking at his balls, the fingers inside him ceasing their movement as Haru rose up, back onto his heels, and Rin opened his eyes to see him apply lube to his cock – seeming as hard and needy as Rin's own.

He thought Haru would push into him there but his hand reached for Rin's and their eyes met, confusing Rin until he figured out what Haru wanted. He crawled over to him, carefully moving into his lap and Haru held his cock for Rin to slide his body down onto, hissing at the feeling of being filled at first. The depth due to the position made his eyes roll back into his head but he only paused once Haru was fully inside of him, the position allowing them to kiss and look into each other's eyes.

Rin wanted to say how he loved Haru – tell him the way he had told his father's ghost, tell him that he didn't hate the way his life had turned out since the trials... Yet all he could do was grip Haru's shoulders tightly, bunch his thighs to push himself up and then down, the years of swimming making his movements strong, powerful, making them both pant into each other's mouth.

They couldn't keep their hands from wandering, fingers sliding in sweaty hair, down firm back muscles, down to Rin's cock, every thrust so deep that Rin's moans were gasped out as Haru thrust upwards, his mouth then buried in Rin's throat, licking, mouthing, tasting his sweat. Rin wondered if Haru could feel how fast his heart was beating as they moved, fucked, made love – whatever they were doing, Rin knew it was so fucking perfect that he wanted it to last.

Haru suddenly pushed up, forcing Rin onto his back, and Rin let his legs be moved to his shoulders as Haru fucked him harder then, pumping his hips forward and backwards. Rin found it difficult to do anything else but push his hands against the bed frame and push into each thrust, watching Haru's chest through half-lidded eyes as he took in ragged breaths, how sweat ran down his body and how his mouth was parted in a perfect "O" of pleasure. Rin's legs drifted from Haru's shoulders to his waist and Haru fell forward then, their faces so close, not kissing, but Rin felt hot breath wash over him as they both approached their ends.

"Touch yourself," Haru whispered and Rin let his hand drift to his stiff dick. "I want to feel you come."

Fuck, the words as well as his own hand were enough for Rin to lose what was left of his mind as he slid his hand up and down his cock, fisting it roughly, feeling how close he was. Haru's dick was so deep inside him, filling him again and again, hitting his prostate, making him shiver with lust and he loved the feel of every inch. He felt his climax approach, rushing to the tip of his cock, cum pulsing out of the slit, and he threw his head back hard against the pillows, riding out his orgasm as Haru continued to pound into his body, his pace only faltering a little.

Rin reached out with his non-sticky hand, pulling at Haru's hair so he could look him dead in the eye, and he spoke softly. "Come for me."

He felt Haru's movements stall, that sweet moment of release accompanied only by a soft moan that was "Rin" whispered into the air and Haru thrust in a few times, spilling himself deep inside, collapsing on top of him, spent and exhausted and Rin didn't mind his weight, his strength as that was one of the things he loved him for. His solidity. That he wasn't a ghost, a dream – he was solid and real.

The post-coital high was accompanied by gentle touches as Haru softened, pulling out then and lying beside him. Rin grinned as he felt his sticky skin, running a finger through the pool of cooling cum on his stomach and offering it to Haru who licked at it, a little grin on his face.

They needed to clean up, to wash each other off their skins but they didn't straight away, and Rin felt a breeze from the window left open, it drying the sweat on his overheated skin.

"Did you say what you needed to say?" Haru asked quietly and Rin turned onto his side, propping his head on his elbow as he ran a gentle finger down from Haru's throat to his waist, feeling the bumps of his skin.

"Yeah."

"You didn't fail," Haru said, his eyes meeting Rin's.

Rin leaned down, brushing his lips across Haru's. "I know. I just had to make a different damn dream."

The body next to him turned, mirroring Rin's own, and Haru's fingers reached to touch him and despite the recent hot sex, Rin still felt something stir inside him at the touch. Blue eyes questioned yet he didn't ask verbally so Rin took Haru's hand, bringing it to his lips.

"You. Us."

He didn't say anything else, just released the hand and got up, stretching and rubbing at his shoulder like he always did before he looked back at Haru on the bed.

"Gonna take a bath to clean up," he said – then raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Wanna join?"

Without hesitation, Haru was on his feet with a smirk similar to his own. "Always."

The rest of the morning Haru didn't get his papers graded – instead, they spent it in each other's arms in the tub, water sliding over their skin, and while Rin had not fulfilled his father's dream, he had something different, something better. He had Haru and Haru was his past and his future.


End file.
